


evanescent

by mildlyarsenic



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Punz is scary, Sapnap is uncontrollable, Survival, cursing in writing bc i cursing in speaking, george and sapnap are just vibing during the apocalypse, george is scared but not rly, i either work at this at 2am or not at all, this turned out lighter than expected but expect heavy stuff still
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29155287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mildlyarsenic/pseuds/mildlyarsenic
Summary: "It has been a year and a bit more, almost two. A year of losing people again and again, facing death numerous times, and having to watch what's remaining of all he'd lost and all he has left get dragged down to hell that's right in front of him, leaving nothing behind but him."-The world likes to joke around, giving and taking, building then breaking, a loanshark. George watches idly as the world treats him like a joke, like a toy. He laughs occasionally. He cries too but not that often.It's okay. Everything is fine, because at the end of the day, as long as he's being played with, that means he's alive.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Karl Jacobs, Cara | CaptainPuffy & Niki | Nihachu, Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. prologue: pointless, painful conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we fucking go

There was a split second of silence, a time stopping moment when George could see the distance between the metal bat and Sapnap's head slowly shrinking before in a blink, everything happens all at once: the collision of the bat to the side of his head accompanied by a loud shriek of pain. His body flicks to the side, weighless and seemingly light in contrast to the force of the swing and he falls on the floor with a loud thud.

( _A small part of George's mind wonders what a blow like that does to a person's vision and current thoughts, wonders if Sapnap can see the colors of the rainbow. Or some crap like that.)_

Cold sweat covers the back of George's neck and the feeling of it trickling down his skin triggers his imagination, thoughts being filled with images of the bat being swung at him next, colliding with his neck and knocking him out there and then. The rapid beating of George's heart was loud, almost painful but it was nowhere near enough to stifle the cries of distress bouncing off the walls of the small, dark room they're currently being locked in.

The man holding the bat stops pacing around Sapnap's recoiling figure and raises his weapon once more. Another blow to the left leg and another cry of pain. George winces, looks away.

"To be fair, I did warn you to stop the first time you did it," Punz, the man swinging the bat like a golf club, says through gritted teeth. "I _did_ let you off the first time, didn't I?" He crouches down beside where Sapnap is curling in on himself, looks steadily for a moment, eyes unmoving and cold, scary. He then flicks his glare towards where George is on his knees, back straight, shoulders trembling. "Didn't I, George?"

The glares Punz and his people send him feels as if he had a gun to his head and it wasn't until he nods stiffly that he feels the hard object pressed against the top of his head and remembers, _oh, right, I do have a real gun to my head_.

( _A small glance to the side, he sees the wielder of the weapon-- a man with a black hood big enough that it's hard to see the face inside. He must've seen George looking at him because he shuffles to pull down the bottom of the hood covering the lower part of his face to flash him a smile. A_ smile. _)_

Another sound of metal colliding with something soft makes George flinch back to look at Sapnap, mouth open, ready to yell out his name. A sigh of relief instead, he sees Punz swinging once more to hit the backpack Sapnap uses to keep all his valuables in, including the resources he stole from the outraged man, the very reason why they're both in this situation in the first place. 

"I did warn you!" Punz yells, kicking Sapnap at the side to roll him over. He steps on the juncture between Sapnap's shoulder and neck to make him stop squirming. "You aren't even part of this place, and especially not after all this bullshit you pulled, you'll never be part of it, you selfish piece of shit! We have a system, Sapnap, we have a system that keeps us alive and if you're just going to be a bitch and ruin this for us, ruin our _survival_ , which you're doing now, by the fucking way, then you'll have to learn your lesson!"

George watches silently, can hear Sapnap cursing under his breath as he clutches the left side of his head, the both of them flinching again as they hear Punz yell something once more.

"George!" he stares hard, and with an icey voice says "go carry your friend."

  
  


Punz isn't really a bad guy, not quite the _bad guy_ in George's dictionary. He's a little scary, a little too uptight and sometimes demanding, but he's not _that_ bad. He has his reasons, because Punz is a scary but reasonable person moved by his strong inclination towards his motivations. The said motivation being his assigned responsibility to ensure the lives of his people, the people who have trusted him and expected him to be the best they have, are safe and protected at all times, at all costs. Punz takes his job seriously, and George admires him for that, he does.

Sapnap isn't a bad guy, either. He has different priorities from Punz and the way he looks at things are different from the way Punz and George would look at things, but he's not the _bad guy_ . He just wants to ensure his _own_ survival (and George's as well along the way) and however ingenuine and _illegal_ his actions may be, at the end of the day, George can't really say anything about it, not when he benefits from said actions himself. 

However, George doesn't think he's in the right, because he's with Sapnap and he doesn't think what Sapnap did is right. But he also thinks what Punz is doing and going to do isn't right nor is it the best option to do at the moment. 

There are different ways this situation can come to an end and the worst of it all is the one where George and Sapnap come meet _their_ _own_ end.

"He's so pissed," he hears a whisper coming closer in stride with him, Sapnap and the hooded man in charge of keeping them in check. He turns to look at the kid he remembers as Purpled, the youngest member of Punz' main security force. He has a sheepish smile as he eyes his leader for a moment before going back to give an apologetic look to George. "It would probably have been better if you two made the run for it instead of trying to stay and continue leeching off of our supplies," he says, shrugging.

It's too late, he thinks. There's no more should have's and would have's because what's done is done and George needs to think of a way to save him and Sapnap, (injured, wobbly Sapnap) from Punz' _lesson_. 

George recognizes the path that he's being taken to. He hasn't been in Punz' territory for that long but he knows that beyond the quadrangle grounds, at the end of the gates they've put up, is the only road connecting to the center of the city. And George knows any road that connects to the center of the city is swarmed with bodies and bodies of the infected.

Purpled was confidently saying they should've made a run for it but there's really very little security holes in this place. Everything and anything gets reported and Punz gets involved in all of it. It was a very bad idea to begin with. That alone was enough to scare George off but not enough for Sapnap apparently. George can take all the energy he can muster and blame Sapnap for it but he knows he's also responsible for not stopping him _enough_ . He _probably_ could've tried harder convincing him.

Too deep in his thoughts, George doesn't realize the commotion that suddenly arose. He doesn't know what was happening, doesn't remember the first bit of it because he was too preoccupied trying to support Sapnap and his own weight without putting any pressure on the sore spots the other man has. Not to mention the fact that his head is down in the depths of his own panicking thoughts, thinking of a way to make sure he and Sapnap come out of this predicament in, at least, any sorts of _alive._

The next thing he knows, a hand drops on his shoulder with enough force to make his knees buckle under the combined weight of everything he's carrying, including his thoughts and the responsibility of being the only one between Sapnap and him who can make any form of genuine retaliation.

"Move!" the man, a different person from any of Punz' main group yells at him. "Did you even hear anything!?"

It was a confusing solid minute of being pushed around by different people panicking and running to a different direction before George, clutching his friend as firmly and carefully as he can, was shoved into a nearby room, a small empty shop it would seem. Head getting filled with different thoughts of relief despite the confusion, George makes a run for the corner of the room to settle Sapnap down before running back to the man that brought them to the place. As quick as his relief came did it go, as he sees through the glass walls of the shop, the other side of the door being closed off with a chain. 

"Wait, what! What're you doing?" George tries to call out in panic. Is this part of Punz' _lesson_ , is that guy some sort of crazy madlad who likes setting up a scene for the people he plans on torturing? "Where's Punz!? Hey!"

He was nowhere to be found, just like the majority of the group that was with them just a moment ago. He sees figures in the distance, and across the road, Purpled was running around in panic as he holds a hatchet in hand and his attention nowhere near George and Sapnap. Taking a step back, he discards any thoughts of being led to a pit of zombies or being punished because of thievery, instead thinks about what else could be causing this much panic inside.

"It's _outside_ , dummy," he hears Sapnap's weak voice speak what George is refusing to think about. "What are you spacing out for?" he giggles, groaning right away from vertigo. 

"Wait, what," George asks, voice devoid of any tone.

"Ponk, I think?" he starts, shifting his body stiffly to position himself in the most painless way possible. "He came running and was screaming about a breach and that there's only one person who didn't piss their pants running away and that they need to get there right away to help."

Chills running down his spine, George's thoughts are now going miles per second as he thinks about what this could mean for everyone and what it could mean for the two of them. 

"George, please," Sapnap starts and George knows he knows he's thinking about everyone all at the same time, as if he has any way to help, as if he has any power to. He doesn't. He doesn't and the only thing he can really do anything about right now is to stop Sapnap's bleeding and to make a run for it in the middle of chaos. Whether that means they'll run to save themselves instead of help save everybody else, George thinks he knows what the answer is. 

  
  


It feels like it hasn't been that long, the virus. Feels like it was only days ago when he was sat down in front of his computer, world shut out, in denial of the fact that he's missing out on a lot of his _youth_ or whatnot the adults kept telling him. He wasn't even awake when the news broke out that half of the city, half of what he's known and grew up to have been destroyed and eaten away by a self-devouring virus. A virus that travels through body fluids and turns healthy, living humans into decaying, undead limp bodies of flesh. The news said it eats the body of the host and kills them slowly, until the virus gets hungrier and controls the body, lifeless and half rotten, to go look for more human flesh to devour. 

It has been a year and a bit more, almost two. A year of losing people again and again, facing death numerous times, and having to watch what's remaining of all he'd lost and all he has left get dragged down to hell that's right in front of him, leaving nothing behind but him. 

Well... him and Sapnap. 

George had learned a lot in the past year and a bit. He knows to prioritize his safety over anyone else. He knows he doesn't have to worry about Sapnap, that man will crawl out of hell if he needs to. Even if George doesn't want him to, he will and that is reassuring enough. They both try their best to stay alive and it’ll all work out. It’s been working out so far so good.

(It's another completely different thing if they're dealing with the living however.)

George knows to make use of what he can, of what he has. The things he needs won't just drop down from the heavens if he asked for it, he has to make it. He knows his limits, knows when to be brave and when to back down. (Sapnap doesn't, and it's still a problem they deal with everyday.)

He's been long past the initial depression of being surrounded by rotting bodies of people he once knew and all he needs to focus on now is being able to survive another day, hoping there's at least something to gain for it at the end of the road.

Ignoring the other man's begrudging curses, George rips a long piece of cloth from Sapnap's own shirt. (He can't help it, his own doesn't provide much while Sapnap's shirt is big. Plus he's wearing two layers. It's not because he doesn't want to rip his own shirt. He's not _that_ much of an ass.) Sapnap has a lot to say about his shirt and the way George's shaking hands are making the cloth rub against his wound painfully, but George finishes the job of bandaging the man's bleeding head. It's not the best but it should be enough to stop the bleeding, even for a bit.

"George," Sapnap whines, dragging it out as he can with his limited breath. "I'm going to fucking die. Punz just put a dent into my freaking skull, George! Get us out of here!"

"Shut the hell up, Sapnap," hands shaking, George continues wrapping up bruises and cuts with what's left of the cloth.

There's a few seconds of silence as he continues to tend to Sapnap's wounds. A couple more and he started worrying if Sapnap is actually about to lose his consciousness as the man is just resting his head back, eyes scrunched close. 

"Sapnap."

There's steady breathing, low and quiet, and George starts feeling the familiar weight of creeping dread in his chest. 

_Far too many people came and left George, far too many people handed him their last breath, in his hands, all that they have left: the remaining hope, regret and pain. They're all in his hands and he's grasping tight, holding it firm so it won't slip through his fingers. But it's overflowing. Far too many people and all of what they have left that they gave him, the last memories proving their existence-- they left it all for George to keep safe but there's too much and if more come and go, it'll overflow and fall and disappear._

"Sapnap!" George yells. 

A beat of silence then another and he holds his breath. 

"Shut the fuck up," Sapnap weakly mutters. "Let me rest, fuck, I need to make more blood cells to replace all that shit."

If he has enough energy to make snarky remarks like that, then there’s nothing to worry about. George lets himself breathe. 

  
  


Distant yells of varying emotions can be heard and George takes it as a sign that no one is near them. Chains are wrapped around the door handles outside so the option to simply leave is out the window. The glass windows of the store are the tempered kind and not even the fire axe behind the counter can break it open. A short look around the place and George finds a vent big enough to squeeze a person in, at the storage room, hopefully leading to the alleyway behind the building.

It took a lot of effort to carry Sapnap, who's almost completely limp and help him climb up the vent. A few shelves toppled to the side made it slightly easier but it still produced cries of pain from the injured man. 

They crawl through the dusty vent that just barely fit them, and somehow successfully made it outside. The fall from the vent was almost two floors high so both fell in all the wrong ways, pain was unavoidable and this just made Sapnap's condition even worse.

"I swear to god, I'm gonna die at this rate, what the hell."

"Shut up, you won't."

Even as they near the complete opposite side of the commotion, voices can still be heard. Are they cries of pain? Panic? Anger? None of them knows and they're about to continue on, without knowing a single thing. Only their survival is what matters most.

"They'll be fine. This isn't the first time. Surely not," George mutters to himself and lets Sapnap hear it. The other man doesn't show, prefers to act like the begrudging, pissed off man he's supposed to be but George can see the uneasiness and worry in his face. Even with rivalries everywhere, enemies are still just people trying to survive with the ones they love and have. Even Punz, especially Punz, a man who has a _family_.

Punz isn't a bad man and Sapnap isn't an asshole. As they look one time at the base of promised safety, slowly breaking apart, with no telling what'll come out of it, both George and Sapnap holds wishes in the depths of their emotions swirling prayers for the people to come out safely; prayers to wherever and whoever for this place to not get eaten away by the decaying world, the way everything else have.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> important notes: 
> 
> •the dream smp casts here are their characters, not the cc themselves. ex. quackity not alex
> 
> •relationships, partnerships and friendships may be referenced from the smp, may also not be
> 
> •no beta :') and eng isnt even my first language, pls do tell me when there are writing mistakes!
> 
> •i am sorry
> 
> \--
> 
> ive been wanting to write a zombie apo au for a long time but only got heavily inspired by dteam's latest zombie challenge. then this got postponed so many times bc school D: havent written anything major for some time too but but!! despite my complaints here it is now, so lets gooo!!
> 
> hope it turned out well!


	2. a man without dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a man they call dream;

There's a few hours before the sun comes down. It's that time of the day when the heat of the afternoon has yet to seep out of the ground but the cooling air is mingling with it, forming this weird combination that isn't quite room temperature or lukewarm. A few hours left of visibility and Dream is in a hurry to find a place to take cover in.

It's only been a day since he left the City Hall, Punz' territory. A breach of the main entrance caused quite a stir on his last day there but it wasn't bad enough to cause any lasting casualty. There seems to be a new kind of infected going around, much smarter and faster than the rest and it somehow broke through Punz' first layer of barricade. Dream had volunteered to stay and fight off the very few that got in as most of the watch guards are too afraid to actually go to the front line. 

(He heard Punz was dealing with some mischievous thieves and brought with him his main security. Pretty dumb but then again, nobody expected the breach in the first place.)

It was a good thing that the doctor, Ponk, as Dream remembers him, ran to get Punz and the others. However small the breach was, it still meant the possibility of a hole in their security, one that seems small but could potentially lead to the endangerment of all the people inside. 

After the whole affair, he went on to say his formalities to the group. For a few weeks, he was welcomed and treated well by the community. The sole reason he was there in the first place was for his and Punz' ammunition deal. Dream happened to come by a resource drop that focused on weaponry and immediately contacted the person he knows is trying to build their power by firepower. 

The City Hall is currently leading the main flow of resources in the center of the city and Punz obviously wants to keep it that way.

Before he was seen off, Punz and Badboyhalo stopped him to talk about the reason why Dream is moving to the less dense parts of the city, despite obviously appreciating the home Punz had offered him. 

Punz wanted to keep his control over the center of the city but newcomers have been coming in flocks, and he sensed the brewing conflict that might arise from this.

_ "Those stupid Trainers. They've come to form a base of their own here, trying to expand. They never had any interest in the city before but…" Punz trails off, an eyebrow raised as he looks on expectantly to Dream. Slight amusement is evident in the slight tilt of his mouth. _

_ Dream lets a few seconds pass as he has nothing to say, really. He’s not about to admit to anything because he’s done a lot of things that needs admitting but he’s not about to start confessing now. Bad's figure takes over Dream's vision as he moves to grab his attention. _

_ "I met one on the way to the Labs earlier. The woman looked crazy, like, mad, psychotic, crazy and she was going on about something like 'The man in the green cloak killed our  _ followers _ , he must pay'." Bad's face shifts into a similar expression with Punz, but he's not even trying to hide his grin. "I'm pretty sure that's you, Dream." _

_ A weary sigh and a palm to his face, Dream chuckles sarcastically, mutters, "Those freaks."  _

_ He knows exactly what Bad and Punz mean. A few weeks back, he came across this uncanny group of people calling themselves 'Trainers'. They take the infected, lock them up, chain them up and leash them. They use them as body shields, like dogs; anything that would benefit them and make their life easier. _

_ It's disg _ _ usting, fucking nauseating. People who have lost their lives as victims, as fighters or simple people who just wanted to stay alive-- being used like tools and rags by those psychopaths. They might not be the same people they once were, but no one deserves to be taken advantage of even after death. _

_ More importantly, the dead should stay dead.  _

_ It's hell already, for the body to live on after its death, to be tormented as a decaying, lifeless bag of meat.  _

_ Dream took out as many infected as he could. This is their freedom.  _

_ "Seems like they didn't appreciate you cutting down the number of their pets," Punz says. _

_ "You should lay low, even at the outskirts. They've probably sent out people all over the place, if the rumors of their numbers rapidly increasing is true." Bad puts both his hands on his hips, tilting his head, squinting his eyes at Dream as he hums thoughtfully. "Should probably keep the bright green subdued, mister." _

_ Dream opens his mouth, objection at the tip of his tongue about how green is  _ his signature _ , but Bad raises an index up to shush him. He hands him a long piece of cloth, black with a single line of red at one side. _

_ "A scarf--?" _

_ "A hood. Use it as a hood. It should be enough to cover up your face and a bit of your clothes. Also, get rid of that cloak. It's musty, anyway." _

_ Dream takes a hand and pats down the cloth. Places here and there are a bit torn, and he can see the mismatched color of the thread used to patch some of it up.  _

_ He glances up to where Bad is smiling, smug and proud at his good deed. With the positivity this man emits, Dream himself couldn't help himself from smiling. _

_ "Thanks, Bad." _

In all honesty, even without those crazy fuckers, Dream would've still left. It's not that the City Hall isn't good or safe, it's probably the most secure place right now in the city. But he's never planned on staying  _ in _ the city, that's all. Too much people, too much commotion and territorial disputes. 

Good job to Punz for being able to lead a whole community in there but that life just isn't Dream’s style. Especially not with a reputation like his.

After an hour of walking, he finds himself on a path leading to a chapel. The surrounding area is flat, with short grass and only a few bushes standing, making it good and easy to keep an eye on. The building itself seems devoid of any movement so Dream doesn't waste a single minute staying out in the open.

Entering the place, he takes note of the clean floors and furniture. By clean, he means not much splatters of blood and hardened clumps of flesh. It's a nice surprise, as anyone would've expected any place in the city to be raided by the occasional hordes. He takes his time moving the scattered pew to block the door to prevent anything from going in and potentially disturbing his much deserved sleep. 

There are two more doors at the other side of the room, possibly leading to a back room of some sort; he checked them for any form of life or movement. Seeing nothing, he blocked it all as well, not wanting to risk any chance of  _ anything _ at this point. 

It's proving to be the best place to set camp right now so Dream does so. There isn't much to set up. The camp layout is just a clean corner to set down his backpack and fire axe, light a candle on and free a space big enough to lay down the map of the city which he uses to determine where he'll be going next. 

The dimming light of the sun setting provides little light through the stained glass windows of the chapel. It’s pretty, albeit a bit creepy knowing what creatures could be looming outside the building.

There’s a few minutes left before all light, aside from his tiny, handy candle, disappears and he takes this opportunity to scribble his next route on his tiny, handy notepad. 

_ -There’s one more week before the next resource drop so I should be okay being this far from the hill. Heard the Boar is in the area so it might be harder to fight for the drop.  _ _ Probably skip  _ _ Might have to use the gun _

_ -Bad said Trainers can be seen near the Labs, can’t go there. Cartel is near Labs so no. _

_ -Shelter next stop? Wi  _

As if his body felt it even before he heard it, Dream's fingers jitter, clenches the pen. He stops writing, stops moving and just in time he hears it, voices.

Sounds of muttering, low and unintelligible can be heard from somewhere near him. Taking a deep breath and swallowing his initial panic, he moves up, feet moving light across the tiled floors. It sounds like it's coming from outside, dangerously near.

Gripping his axe in one arm and his candle in the other, he moves closer to the window, tries to take a peek outside when loud sounds of glass breaking strikes through the silence. Through the darkness, he realized the window next to the one he's standing in front of is shattered open, only a few spikes of glass remaining.

Deciding there's no time for confusion and double takes, he swiftly moves towards the now broken window and swings, blindly but with enough force to dig through flesh.

A loud scream, a shriek, follows his movement and surprises Dream so much that he reciprocated the same way. 

"Fuck!" he hears come from where his axe has landed on the wooden frame.

Outside, there's a man, wearing goggles and another, a bandana, clutching at each other as they both peak through the broken glasses and at Dream. The axe has barely missed the first man's arm, which is safe between the window sill and the blade of the weapon.

"What are you doing!?" Goggles said, with raised but shaky voice. 

Feeling unnecessarily defensive, Dream barks back, "What are  _ you  _ doing!? You just broke through the fucking window, making all that noise and you're asking  _ me _ what I'm doing?" 

Goggles opens his mouth to argue back but the man behind starts coughing and he stops, anger dropping from his face to be replaced by worry. The two shifts as Goggles try to not clutch but carry Bandana better to ease his coughing. Dream takes this time and the opportunity given by the light of the moon to inspect the two. 

Bloody and injured.

He pulls his axe out of the sill, steps back and raises it. 

"You're not going in here."

The two men look up in tandem, visibly confused before meeting Dream's glare. Different emotions pass through their faces: fear, defiance, anger, pleas. Goggles grits his teeth, then lets his eyes wander to peek through the inside of the chapel.

"There's enough space in there. What do you mean-"

"Are you bitten?" Dream cuts him off coldly, glares just as much. The two seem to double take, but quickly recovers. 

"N-no, we're not. He's not, he's just injured. From a fight, his head got struck by a bat. It's just a little conflict. Humans, between humans, we haven't encountered much infected!" 

Dream points his axe, and both flinch. 

"Show me."

The second man groans, and even rolls his eyes. It takes all of Dream to not snap there and then and yell about how they're not in any position to show sass. Not because this is such a crucial detail and if they're talking petty, he called dibs on the chapel first anyway.

He hears one of them whisper,  _ Sapnap, just shut up _ , as they both take off the strip of thin cloth covering Bandana's forehead. It sticks to the fresh wound, soaking with blood that has yet to completely dry.  _ Sapnap _ winces then looks up to give Dream a dirty look.

"It's a blunt cut, not a bite. Can you let us in already?" he grits out.

No, is what Dream wanted to say but before he can even open his mouth, Goggles steps forward and reaches out to Dream's arm that is unarmed. He pulls him closer to the window and without saying anything shifts to transfer the other guy into Dream's hold.

"What the  _ fu _ -"

"Just help!"

In all of the months that Dream has survived through the virus and the apocalypse that came with it, he has never met people quite like these two, George (Goggles) and Sapnap (Bandana).

_ "George? Really? That your real name?" _

_ "Yes, this whole codename business is stupid. You never know when you're going to die, might as well let people remember you for your name." _

There's something off about them, but not in the suspicious way. Initially, Dream was suspicious of whether the two really aren't bitten as they say they were. He kept his grip on his axe, never letting go for even a second, always on alert. 

But after some time the two didn't show any signs of violent twitching, which is the earliest symptom of the virus, seen just a few minutes after being bitten. So he lets go and loosens up, still quite on alert but he stops glaring daggers at them.

The way they're off isn't suspicions of being bitten, but rather how carefree they are. No, more like, careless. Breaking through the church in such a loud way despite knowing the infected are most sensitive with sounds, arguing like two kids that don't even try to lower their voice and just generally acting like how  _ people who die first _ act.

They don't dress up like how the survivors in the center of the city does-- simple clothing, not any form of armour, not even a gas mask. They're both covers in small cuts and bruises, ragged as if they're being hunted down.

Dream planned to have the whole evening for himself to sleep and properly rest but instead decided to  _ chat _ with them, to interrogate.

Seems like they've known each other for a few months now, traveling together from place to place, roaming just on the outside of the city. They only go inside when they need resources and don't try to talk to the survivors from inside.

" _They're scary. And kinda crazy, most of them."_ _Sapnap said, with George nodding in the background. "Punz just beat the living shit out of me. They're cuckoo."_

_ Oh, so they came from Punz.  _

_ "Well, to be fair, we did raided their supplies and planned on taking a lot of it and sneaking it out but-"  _

_ Oh. They're the thieves. _

_ "We weren't even able to take anything out. They took our stuff-"  _

_ "My crossbow! No way, damn it, I forgot it inside!" _

_ "-the ones we stole and even the ones that were originally ours. Those assholes, my ipod was in my bag." _

They're… interesting, is the only word that Dream could think of to slightly graze what he feels about them.

You have the world slowing down and the survivors living in it getting angrier and more violent. You have the infected, the disputes, the pain and grief and you have death in every corner. 

Then there's these two. Suddenly popping up like a zit, annoying and out of place. They don't talk like survivors do, they talk as if they're just  _ living _ , not scrambling to  _ survive _ . They have wounds and cuts and bruises but they make it seem like the world isn't trying to hurt them, they just hurt themselves while playing in the sandpit. Rather dangerously, but the thought is there.

Dream is a survivor. 

He doesn't just  _ live _ , he tries to  _ survive _ . Like every other survivor out there, he's furious at the world, at his situation. He can find fault in everything and can blame anything for putting him where he is now. He's angry and exhausted and almost to the point of breaking but he grits his teeth and keeps walking, scraping his knees trying to  _ survive _ .

There are days when he feels like what he does is pointless. He can't see the end even though the world is at its own breaking point. And there are days when he's confused, doesn't know what he should really be doing, whether this is what he wants. 

Those days seem to collide and mush together to form this one night. He looks at the two, one sleeping and the other fiddling with whatever. They're weird but they at least seem to know what they want. 

Funny enough, Dream feels stupid for being rightfully angry that the world did him shit. 

In the end, Dream doesn't get to take his much deserved sleep. He continues planning his next day, slightly modifying things here and there because these two just _ate_ _up_ the entirety of his first aid bag and even snatched a bit of his food. They don't seem embarrassed to show their thievery mannerisms. 

The night turns darker, swallowing all light and Dream looks on, stares back to the abyss. When his eyes adjust fully and eat away the bit of darkness, he sees on the floor the candle he didn't know he dropped during the confrontation earlier. 

He sighs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 》chapters that explore povs of other characters instead of george (main) will pop up every now and then :>
> 
> thank you for reading! ♡


	3. and then there were three

Sleeping feels like being embraced by a huge dark blanket that smells like familiar things, bad and good things. Its silence is comforting in a way, the absence of anything feels the most liberating.The worst part of it is waking up, having to pull yourself out at the very last moment; can’t stay and won’t stay.

The sharp sound of something clattering pierces through George’s consciousness and he jolts awake. A full second of confusion makes him freeze as his brain takes in all too much information at once. Blinking his senses to consciousness, he sees two things.

Two people, actually. Waving their hands around. Arguing?

“George!”

Sapnap is one of the two. He’s looking over at George with disbelief written all over his face. The other man with the gas mask is a tough one, it takes a couple of seconds for George’s memories to remind him what happened the night before. Remembering everything, he shoots up.

“George, he’s leaving!” Sapnap says with an incredulous expression. 

“What,” Dream, George’s mind fills him in, says with furrowed brows. “I’m not with you two. I don’t owe you bastards anything.”

That is the truth and the situation at hand so George shoots Sapnap a questioning look which the man returns with one that screams, _you idiot._

“Don’t tell me you’re just gonna leave an injured man behind with a… another injured man!”

Dream raises an eyebrow and moves his glare to George. 

“You’re injured, too?” he asks in a low voice. One that says no matter how serious George’s injury is, if it were true, there’s little to no chance that he’ll give a crap. George with remaining bits of confusion from his still hazy mind, can’t help not giving a crap himself.

He looks over at Sapnap for help but Sapnap has his back turned on him, standing awkwardly as he shifts between one foot to the other. _This blockhead._

“I-I’m… colorblind.”

Like a clap of thunder, Dream drops his axe down on one of the pews with enough force to create a sound loud enough to scare the shit out of George. George can hear him whispering, _this is stupid_ , under his breath as he goes back to packing his things. 

“I don’t have any business with the both of you.”

Too busy feeling awkward by everything, George doesn’t notice Sapnap has walked over to him, bearing the angriest face George has seen on him. George doesn’t understand so he lets himself soak up the man’s irritation and now the both of them look like angry idiots huddling in a corner.

“What’re you doing?” he whispers seethingly. 

“What’re _you_ doing?” George answers back. “Why do you want to go with him!? You don’t even know him! That guy could be one of Punz’ idiots!”

“ _You_ ’re the idiot! He has resources, remember! A lot of it! He has to know where to get it. We don’t have nothin’ and we can’t even go back to the city yet; I’m injured and you don’t even have your weapon. The fuck do you think we can do!?”

Straightening up, George gives it a thought and he realizes just how lucky they were to not encounter any dangerous horde on the way and even find this place. Luck is very hard to come by and he doesn’t want to risk his and Sapnap’s safety trying to test it. 

He’s now fully awake as he feels the familiar spikes of anxiousness. He has to think for them because he knows well enough that Sapnap may have good ideas but the way he executes them is shit. 

The only way to really form groups nowadays is through convenience. If no benefit can come from the two of them coming along, then no one is going to let them. 

He lets out a shaky breath and Sapnap hits him in the back, pushing him forward to where Dream is. George motions at Sapnap to not make any moves of his own to make sure the situation doesn't get worse than it already is.

"Look, Dream, we're sorry. We were just messing around," he starts tentatively.

The man doesn't show any acknowledgement, continues to rummage through his stuff. 

"It's just been quite a while since we met someone who didn't try to go for our heads right away. Sapnap just got too excited and was running his mouth."

Silence. 

"Wait so why did you use 'Dream' for your-"

"Can you," Dream cuts in loudly, whipping around to send looks towards his and Sapnap's way. "Two. Can you two stop?" 

In the background, George can hear Sapnap retorting back and Dream not backing down himself, but George doesn't pay them any attention. He zones out, too focused on the scribbles on the map of the city that Dream has in front of him.

Several bulleted writings beside what George can recognize are the Hills and a few other lines showing routes to and fro the place with dark markers. The Hills are a bit far away from where they currently are but guessing from the way it's the only location in the map with that much significance on it, Dream must frequent it a lot.

George knows _exactly_ what the Hills are for. 

Half a year into the mess of the virus, after the people who have the power to have fled the city and locked it off, all and every digital connection has suddenly been cut off. The most powerful way of communication remaining in the city is the radio but only to receive messages. The city is devoid of any gadget, any transmitter to send messages through the radio except for one location.

The radio station that has functioning transmitters are located besides the small lighthouse of the lake shore. George heard from Punz that a branch of the military has taken base at the lighthouse and won't let anyone else get near. That they're the one sending the radio signals about the resource drops containing either food, firepower, medicine and/or tools. He doesn't know exactly just how true this information is but he's never questioned it before.

Seeing Dream's map, he's starting to let the information sink properly. He has questions, too many of them but now isn't the time. Snapping out of his daze, he speaks up through the noise of the two men going at each other.

"You're one of the people who fights for the resource drops," he says, slowly looking up at Dream as he realizes just how so many things makes sense. "Are you not?"

Dream's movement halts for a moment. 

"What's it to you?" Bullseye.

Punz mentioned this to George as well. People, mostly in groups, sometimes by themselves, would keep radios with them and track down schedules of the resource drops. The location is always somewhere around the Hills. Then they would camp the site out and wait until the drop comes and begins fighting for it. Like different packs of violent animals fighting each other to earn themselves the prey. 

A lot of people come out of it injured, some dead. Punz call them _scavengers_ because at the end of the fight, they feed from the remnants of the bloodshed and death they themselves caused.

George takes a deep breath. This is it. _I'm such a genius._

"We can help you with it," he says with all the confidence he can muster. 

(Tough as the two of them are, surviving through the hordes of infected this long, getting involved with people who kill not only the dead but even the leaving is still making his stomach churn in anxiousness.)

He hears Dream scoff. 

"Bandana's injured-"

"Sapnap. Sap. Nap-"

"-and you're, what was that?" he says, acting out the most sarcastic gesture of thinking. "Colorblind, aren't you?"

It takes all of George to not grimace there and then. At the corner of his eyes, he can see Sapnap palming his face. George rolls his eyes.

"We can help with other stuff. I heard somewhere that it's almost like a race. Almost a blood bath." He's betting everything in this one. "I heard a boar goes on a rampage and not even scavengers who group up can keep it out. You work alone don't you? Don't see you with anyone and the way you act like something's up your arse when you talk to us, it does seem like you don't do teams."

Dream's glare gets sharper, he turns around completely to face George. 

Well, at least now he has his whole attention.

"And? You said it yourself. I look like I don't do teams."

"You might want to learn how to."

Just from the sound of Sapnap inhaling sharply, George can tell he's trying his best not to laugh or react in any way that's gonna cost them. 

"If you can get me a bow, or a crossbow much better, I can help _a lot_. I have really good aim. I can keep people off of you when you go for the loot. Or the kill, whichever one you go for. Sapnap is injured but he can be on the lookout or distraction, whatever. Plus if you bring us, you can get thrice as much loot than when you're just- just you and that dirty freaking backpack of yours."

Dream looks down with another scoff. When he looks back up, he has blank eyes and he stares George head on for a few seconds before turning and doing the same to Sapnap. He hums thoughtfully, almost mockingly then sags as if giving up. All the while, George's sweating his bum out.

"Bow?" Dream asks with a quiet voice. "How about a gun?"

George takes a sharp intake of breath to stop himself from squealing like an idiot. He can hear Sapnap verbally keeping in his own.

"Don't use it, too loud and recoil hurts my arms. Sapnap can do short range combat but, yeah, he acted like an idiot and got himself beat."

Dream stares them down once again, George can see the cogs in his head turn, slowly sure, but it's turning alright. The man sure is tall and intimidating. More so with his creepy half face glare.

He's just standing still, completely still. George doesn't know whether he's thinking against it, thinking of going for it or maybe planning the two’s death in his mind. Seconds of full hard silence later, Dream throws a crumpled roll of something soft to George. He looks down and sees a thin roll of bandages.

“Change that nasty fucking bandage from last night,” he says motioning to Sapnap. “If you lag behind, I won't care.”

"Admit it, I'm pretty good," George whispers to Sapnap with a smug grin. 

"Eh. Decent."

He lightly tightens the bandage he's putting on Sapnap and the man barks out a cuss. He was about to start acting out for revenge when the sound of forced coughing stops them both.

"We're going," Dream tells them, standing right in front of the chapel door. He has his complete gear on, ready and intimidating still. 

With the heavy looking gear, It's easy to tell that Dream goes to the center of the city enough to need it. He has a black hood on, almost covering his whole face. Or rather, his gas mask.

He hasn't shown his whole face to either of them, didn't even take off the mask last night. George doesn't even know if he slept at all. The only bit they can use to gauge out whatever emotion this man has are his semi-visible eyes through the glass shield of the mask.

He has scrap metal molded to act as protective gears on his shoulder and forearms. He's wearing baseball leg gears. It looks worn out and kinda smells like it's rotting. It can only mean two things: Dream fights the infected with his legs and the smell clung on it or the man found the leg gear on an infected and decided to just go for it. Either way, it's disgusting and George doesn't want to think about it.

They leave the place right away, each carrying something to protect themselves with. The swelling on Sapnap's leg has subsided so George doesn't need to help him with every step anymore, though he's still slow.

Dream mentioned that he doesn't have a bow or crossbow with him at present but he knows a place. Just as George had suspected, they're walking in the direction of the center of the city. Despite this, they have barely encountered any horde. Just a few scattered infected here and there, all of which were taken care of by Dream himself. 

(He knows exactly how to move, where to hit, where to cut. It's not too far-fetched to say George is a bit wary around him.)

"You're so good with that axe," Sapnap says. Dream just grunts, keeps his pace steady, his gaze forward. "Kinda scared for my life, to be honest. What if you kill us? You're not leading us to our death, are you?"

Then he stops, abruptly. Sapnap takes note of this and does the same, tensed and confused. Dream's creepy mask comes into view as he turns around.

"Why should I kill you?" 

From where George is, he sees Sapnap's shoulders lowering down in relief. He then notices Dream walking closer to Sapnap. With a steady pace and a hard stare, he continues,

"No. I'm genuinely curious. Why should I kill you? You're seeing me take care of the infected and the concern that comes to your mind is how you're scared for _your_ life? Why? You said you're not infected, are you?" 

Sapnap is shell shocked and George is in mild panic. Running over to the two, he tries to step between, "Dream, hey-"

"Or maybe you got scared because of the scavenger thing? Why? Do you have _something?_ Did you do anything worthy of being cut down? Come to think of it, you are a thief who stole from a huge faction that houses a lot of survivors. A lot! And you stole from them. Are you wanted then? You have a prize to your head, huh? Or maybe you just really want-"

"Dream!"

The glare he sends George made chills run down his spine. Sapnap who has kept his mouth shut seems to snap out of his fearful haze. He steps back, pulls his injured leg behind him protectively and clutches at George's arm.

"What the fuck. What the fuck is wrong with you?" Sapnap grits out, glaring just as harshly to level with the hostility Dream is emitting. 

There's no end to this if they continue like this. George steps in front of Sapnap fully, breaking the stare down the two are doing. 

"Stop it. Let's just go."

He half expected either of the two to shove him to the side and get back to trying to mentally tear each other’s throat out but was a bit surprised to see them both step back. 

It’s not like George doesn’t understand the presence of hostility between Dream and them. They did just come into the picture, bearing nothing but snarky remarks and company, demanding to be brought along to rid themselves the danger of being eaten away by the hordes. He understands but he’s not about to provide any other compromise than what he’d initially suggested. 

“This is gonna be fucking great,” Sapnap mutters to George as he passes by him to continue on their way.

The place that Dream had mentioned turned out to be in the uptown. The uptown is slightly less dangerous than the center of the city but it’s still pretty horrifying. They keep Sapnap between them at all times and while George has more expertise wielding long range weapons, he made do with the machete that Dream handed him. 

A couple of near heart attacks and several close calls later, they reach a house slightly smaller than the rest, covered with several layers of blockage meant for the infected. Dream leads them to the back and enters through a dumpster. Inside is a hole busted open to make way into the house.

It’s a neatly kept house if you discard the thick layer of dust that had accumulated on every viable surface. The trip to the basement was quiet and it wasn’t a surprise when George realized it’s partially because Sapnap excused himself and made his own way upstairs. 

Admittedly, George’s expectation was a bit higher for the basement. He expected some lair looking place with low lighting and weaponry covering the walls. The basement sure has very little lighting but it didn’t show any weaponry at all.

He stood awkwardly at the foot of the stairs, waiting as Dream rummaged through different boxes in the dark. After a few awkward minutes, he comes back into view and hands George a wooden crossbow. It’s less advanced than George’s own that was left behind the City Hall; it has no scope, only a metal bar protruding to act like a center guide and doesn’t have its own quiver attached. It’s a crossbow for hunting animals. 

Dream hands him a separate quiver, containing around 20 plus arrows, and he says his thanks. The man just grunts back, steps to the side and makes his way up. So it’s this easy. 

He follows next, looking behind one last time to check if there’s no other weapon he could bring. Once he reaches the living room, he finds Sapnap sitting on the couch, staring straight ahead at the powerless television. He notices George and stands up, a roll of paper in hand.

“What’s that?” 

Sapnap opens the paper, smoothing it out; it shows one of the old advertisements for the safety camp the two of them had tried collecting before. It was months ago when the things started popping out of nowhere, scattered all over the place. They collected as much as they could to try and gather as much information about it but even before anything crucial was revealed by the posters, it started to stop appearing.

“You should ask him about it. See what he knows,” Sapnap whispers to him. George doesn’t know why he feels the need to when Dream is off to who knows where.

“What? Why me?” George replied. Sapnap gives him a look of disbelief and seems like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Are you really asking that? Were you not with us just half an hour ago or?”

George starts whining out complaints but goes to look for Dream anyway.

He finds him upstairs, in one of the rooms, crouching in front of an outlet, possibly testing for electricity. A glance behind him tells George that Sapnap has followed, standing just a bit out of sight. 

“Dream, I have a question.” 

“Yeah?” he answers promptly, not bothering to give a glance.

“The posters. Do you know anything about them? You roam around the city a lot, don’t you? Surely you’ve seen the posters about the safety camp.”

Dream hums dismissively, fidgeting around with wires of what George guesses is a charger for something. He guesses it's for the radio, seeing it's literally right there.

“Which one? The earlier ones or the recent ones?” George and Sapnap share a look, both confused. 

“I- We didn’t know there were different ones.” 

Dream scoffs, “Of course, there are. There's more than one, more than two. There are people who use the posters as a way to bait dumb people into locations where they can mug them. Happens a lot.” 

Sapnap, who’s only been tapping his foot impatiently decides to step into the view. “Well which one is from the government? We’ve been trying to find the source of the posters. We’re waiting for them to pick us up.”

Dream goes still for a moment, hand hovering over the radio he’s trying to power up. He straightens up and looks at George and Sapnap with a genuinely questioning look. George has no idea what it means but he tilts his head to motion Dream to continue anyway.

“The posters from the government are the old ones, they’re from, what, 8 months ago? I can’t remember precisely but it’s that old. I don’t know just how legitimate those posters were but a lot of people seemed to believe it. I was about to. But then they stopped appearing right? They were giving out all these information about what the safety camp is like, what the requirements are to be able to get in, how big it is, how many people are inside but they never said where it is or when it’s going to pick survivors up. Now everyone was left with fuckin’ nothing to work with. Total asshole move.”

George nods, he remembers all the details that Dream has said. He remembers every hopeful thought for every new poster that they collected. He remembers the excitement and the dismay that followed too soon after.

“After a month of the original posters disappearing, new ones started circling around again. I’m guessing you guys never saw it. They’re different, very different. Look different, tell different things, have different information. It took me a few months to realize it was actually just WIlbur advertising his shelter.”

“Wilbur?”

“One of the guys in the center of the city. Punz is leading the City Hall, right? Wilbur has the Shelter.”

“Wait, wait, so there’s absolutely nothing for the government posters?”

Dream takes a moment to just stare again, thinking whatever possibly condescending thoughts he has again. He sighs and goes back to face his radio, then stops again and looks back at them.

“Wait,” he says, an eyebrow raised, voice obviously laced with entertainment. “So are you guys one of those people who reverently believed the poster?” 

“Yes,” George answers short and firmly.

Even with the mask, he can see the way Dream loses the mocking smile he has on his face. He turns around and starts with the radio, again.

“There’s a limit to being funny,” he says with a voice low but enough to be heard by the two of them.

It’s almost funny how George almost heard the way Sapnap snaps.

“We’re not trying to be funny. If you know something, just say it and stop acting like a know it all fucking bastard.”

Dream stands up and walks towards them so fast that George almost screamed to make him stop. He steps in between once again, holding a hand in front of the two but mostly on Dream as Sapnap is more keen on staying away.

“Hey, hey, hey. He has a sharp tongue but his knees are still buckling,” George tells Dream. Sapnap seems to have a lot to say about it but holds himself back, resorting to just muttering under his breath. 

Dream sighs, mutters his own curses. He goes back to the radio, this time sitting fully.

“That’s all I know about the posters. It’s all a bunch of lies. The ones that look real just played you guys while the other smaller ones just mugs people. You should be grateful the mugging ones never made it to the two of you. You two could’ve been dead by now.”

Sapnap groans, still in denial of all the information he’s been presented, quietly growls out, “You’re shitting.”

“And you’re fucking tripping,” Dream sarcastically laughs. “The Shelter is the best bet you guys can have at staying put in one place and praying to be kept _safe_ by whatever or whoever's guidance. Of course, aside from Punz who’s leading the most protected location in the city but you two made an enemy out of them so cheers to that.”

Sapnap has already gone on his way to other parts of the house where he can be begrudging as much as he wants but George stays rooted in place. Dream gave him a questioning glance but chose to ignore him right away.

Almost a year. Almost a whole freaking year, George has chased down the posters as if it’s his salvation. Sure, it disappeared halfway, but he’s never stopped chasing. He’s kept his alert, kept his hope, he kept looking. 

His mind is blank and his chest feels heavy. It doesn’t feel like he’s going to cry, far from it. He doesn’t feel angry either. He just feels heavy. Disappointment, maybe? Disbelief, possibly. Empty, most definitely.

It feels like all this time he’s been in a haze, moving forward as if he’s being led by a string that’s helping him take step after step. But all of a sudden, right this very instant, the haze cleared up and he’s standing awkwardly in a place where he feels out of place, as if he wasn’t even standing there before. As if everything that’s around him wasn’t there before. 

There’s a few seconds of panic as he feels confused by what he’s been doing all this time, feels like he’s been woken up from sleep walking. His breath speeds up and his mind starts to race. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to think, how to move. It feels like there’s this low static noise that is slowly getting louder and louder, nearer. 

George was about to call out for Sapnap, or Dream or anyone but a loud noise of electricity sparking shakes him out of his thoughts. He sees the wiring of the outlet that Dream had taken out of the wall, connecting to the radio. The thing starts stuttering to life, beats of static slowly getting in on volume. Dream continues to fiddle with it until the bits of static turn into a smooth one. 

George stares, mind blank once again as he just watches. Different levels of static later, bits and pieces of sounds that George thinks could only be voices starts filtering. 

It seems like even Sapnap came back into the room to look at what the noise was. They’re waiting patiently. For what, George doesn’t know and he’s sure Sapnap also doesn’t but Dream seems to have an idea. 

He pays close attention, puts all of it into waiting for a change in the static instead of thinking _thoughts_. A voice starts to come through, rough and broken from the weak signal or maybe the electricity. But they all listen intently all the same.

“Prepa—this upcom— location, on the Hills— any and all survivors hearing this should— for the loot that will be containing medical resources as well as food and aids—”

It’s the first time George is hearing the announcement for the resources drop. He sees Dream focused and clutching the radio and wires to keep the power going. Sapnap has taken steps forward to listen better and he seems just as interested as Dream is. George zones out for the rest of it but he knows what this means.

They have a location now.   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little late but hey its longer =3= i actually wanted this chapter to include more but i dont wanna overwhelm one chapter hehe there's alrdy quite a lot unpacked in this chapter lmao
> 
> thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! ♡


	4. opening act

A few days passed by without a hitch, quick and easy, loose in George's memory. He expected a bit more ruckus from his two companions being that Sapnap seems to fancy trying to rile Dream up. It's either the latter is just the patient type or he's already gotten used to Sapnap that he's not even batting an eye at the jabs thrown his way; either way George finds the turn of things quite interesting.

They walked continuously day and night, stopping only when exhaustion peaks. The Hills seem farther than George had expected but he keeps his complaints at the back of his throat, not wanting to start a chain of frustration that'll surely form, judging the way the other two are clenching their teeth the same way he does.

They get by eating biscuits that Dream doesn't seem to run out of. Every now and then, he would bring out a canned mushroom and even though it tastes crummy itself, it's decisively heaven, compared to eating the same dry flakes over and over again. 

It turns out, water is harder to come by. Dream has stocked up using a large bottle that he deemed was enough for himself but surely, he didn't expect he'll be feeding two more grown men continuously walking under the bare sun. Not long after they started their journey, the water bottle was already weightless. 

"This is bad," Dream mutters to himself, rummaging through his backpack with slight panic clear through his movements. "We're passing through the forest. Fuckin' nothing useful in sight. South is the beach shore, west only has the cemetery. I'm pretty sure east leads to the hospital but that's too dangerous. We came from the trail, not passing by a single structure, no shack, cabin, nothing. At this point, we'll exhaust ourselves before reaching the Hills."

Sapnap groans, slowly dropping himself on a perched log, “This sucks.”

George snickers to himself, “You know, you’re the one that drinks the most.”

“No? Dream does.”

“It’s my water, I can drink however much I want.”

“That’s not a great mindset for rationing.”

Dream ignores George, proceeds to sit down next to Sapnap as he gets his map out.

“For now, let’s try and look for the shortest route to any location that might lead us to any supply of water.” 

Dream doesn’t find anything visible on the map that screams ‘water’ but he finds a stray path leading to a space that looks like it may or may not be a small residential area. It’s the nearest they can find and it took a bit of arguing to decide whether they’ll risk their remaining energy to walk towards it or try to move on forward hoping they’ll reach something by luck. George loses the argument by majority and they decide on following the path. 

It’s a small area randomly placed inside the forest, bare of trees with a couple of wooden cabins bunched up together. 

“It’s moldy and creaking. Not even a dumbass would live here,” Sapnap whispers as they weave through the place. 

“We’re looking for water, not residents,” George whispers back. The place looks like it can hide one or two infected with the small spaces scattered everywhere and this doesn’t do much to calm down his racing heartbeat.

Silence takes over as Dream hushes them and he goes inside one of the cabins. George watches his back as he goes deeper into the place, then stops. Not just stop walking, he pauses, as if frozen on the spot. Alarms start ringing in George’s brain and he reaches behind him until he’s able to grab hold of Sapnap. He pulls him closer to him, behind him as he walks towards Dream. 

From inside, Dream gives them a side-eye, eyes wide and unreadable. 

“A guest?” a pitched but hoarse voice from inside speaks, accompanied by familiar wet growls. 

George goes into panic, mind going to different places in the longest of seconds that he stood there. Looking behind, he sees Sapnap sharing the same line of thoughts as he is, holding tight to his raised bat. Terrified but determined, they walk slowly towards Dream.

In the middle of the living room, amidst dusts and dirt and cobwebs, sits an old woman, with the softest smile on her face. One of her eyes is completely white while the other halfway closed. She's staring at them straight, unmoving like a corpse.

But George barely notices her, his attention shooting straight into the two chained infected just a few feet away from her, eyes gouged out and sockets clogged up with dried blood. The smell of grime mixed with rotting flesh sharply invades his sense of smell and he chokes through air, unable to stop his coughing. 

The old woman chuckles mechanically and this makes George's skin crawl, so much that he clamps a hand over his mouth, determined to block his coughing no matter how much it burns his throat.

“They do smell foul, don’t they?” she says and as if retaliating, the sluggish undead monsters behind her snarls loudly. Sapnap inhales sharply, goes back a couple of steps as he gets ready to flee.

George’s jaw hangs open as he struggles to find the words to answer but Dream beats him to it.

“Are you a Trainer?” he says with a sharp glare, axe positioned smartly, ready to swing at any time. 

There are a bunch of different ideas that come flooding through George’s mind as he thinks through whatever context he has in front of him that could give him the answer to whatever a trainer could be. Sapnap seems to reach understanding first as he mutters behind them, “Disgusting," in the most hostile tone George has ever heard from him.

The woman doesn’t reply, opts to instead hum through her words, hand gently patting around her, as if looking for something.

“What brought you youngins here?”

George steps back himself, looks around the place looking for anything that could help them - an escape route, any blockage, weapon and the fucking water they're so desperately looking for. 

"Water", Dream replies short, cold.

As if delighted, the woman hums cheerfully, voice breaking slightly. 

"Travelling through the end of the world sure is tough, isn't it? It's alright, there should be some in the kitchen just past here," she says tilting her head to the side, eyes not leaving them as her head motions to the open doorway behind her. 

"You can have it, there's not a lot, but it is something."

"Is it safe to drink?" Sapnap asks, voice quiet but through the silence, they hear him loud enough.

"Oh, please." Her voice is thick with amusement. George hates it. "I wouldn't be drinking it if it weren't. Go on ahead."

All three of them stay rooted in place, not knowing what to do. Noticing this, Dream steps back, so he can move closer to the two of them.

"I'll get it," he whispers. All three of them don't look away from the old woman. "I should be able to do it. I can probably handle those two if she ever releases them. If she does and I'm still in there, make a run for it and go back to the main trail."

"That's dangerous, you dumbass-"

"Okay," George cuts Sapnap off, the other man sending him an incredulous look, heavy disagreement in his expression. "Okay, we'll stay here. I can fend off one, if ever." 

He raises his crossbow, making Sapnap sigh loudly. 

The masked man nods and turns back to the woman, who stays seated, her smile big and unwavering.

Dream slowly walks through the living room easily, without a single sound. His feet tread lightly through the floorboards that look old enough to squeak at every slight pressure.

For some reason, the infected still reacts, shooting up to chase after him, held back just enough to be out of reach by the chains binding their necks and limbs. 

The seconds pass by as George's arms remain raised, his fingers tense and still on the crossbow’s trigger. Behind him Sapnap stays fidgeting,

Dream comes out after a few moments, carrying a single thermos bottle. 

(George's first thought is to complain about how small it is. He keeps it a thought.)

He moves back to George and Sapnap without even trying to be quiet, rushing along with his adrenaline. The old woman laughs boisterous, surprising the three of them, George points his crossbow to her instead of the infected.

"You don't have to be so scared of them. They're nice and obedient," she says. "They're a cute couple, aren't they? Very sweet. They even have a child, I don't know where she is now however. Would have been nice to have the whole family with me but it's alright."

George hears Sapnap making a disgusted sound at the back of his throat and can see Dream's glare go stronger.

"They're very good pets," her voice lowers. "They chase fast and bite hard. They hold onto flesh as if their hands are made of iron."

"You're fucking sick." The sound of leather gloves tightening around the handle of the axe makes George grip his crossbow as well.

"No, no. No," she smiles wider. "I'm giving them a second chance in life-"

"You're treating them like dog shit."

"I'm taking care of them!" her hoarse voice yells, making the three of them flinch.

"I'm going to kill them just to free them from you sick bastards!"

She screeches, thin and loud, doesn't stop, keeps crying out. It pierces through the ears and the three of them get more tense, heels lifted, ready to flee as the two infected behind her growls louder. 

The trainer tugs at a string that George just now noticed and it rings a bell. Not even a blink after, two infected breaks through the wooden planks that make up the wall beside them. 

Their reflexes jolts them and they move to bolt out but Sapnap gets caught by one of the infected through the hanging cloth on his bandages. 

Dream yells after him, slices through the arm holding him, the axe breaking through fragile bones easily. He pushes Sapnap away and swings his axe to hit the infected back. 

George sees the trainer reach her hand out behind her seat but he moves faster, shoots her arm at the joint. She releases the most terrifying shriek George has ever heard. 

Frozen in place as both fear and panic seeped through his limbs, George didn't notice he was being pulled away by Sapnap until he almost stumbled due to their difference in pace. There was so much going on at once and a headache forms at the base of his head as he tries to keep himself together.

They get far, and only until he looks back did George notice that the trainer didn't go after them, not even the infected. The cabins are barely in sight, covered from sight by the thick, looming trees.

Once they got to a safe place, they all collectively collapsed as if all their energy was sapped out. They checked their belongings and the surroundings, making sure they're at a safe distance from any structure.

Sapnap quickly looks for the bottle Dream has and snatches it, chugs it down. The other man scolds him and grabs it back to prevent him from drinking it all up.

"What the hell just happened?" George struggles through short breaths.

"At least we got the water with us, fuck."

"Check your arms, legs, everywhere. See if you got scratched, any little wound. We best prevent any unpleasant situations," Dream tells them, as he looks and feels through his own body. The two pat around their own arms and legs, panicked but careful, checking every surface of their clothing. Finding nothing, they sigh in unison then answer negative to the expectant Dream, who then shares their relief.

The shine of the thermos bottle catches George's attention and he grabs it to finally aid his thirst, only to stop right before the brim touches his lips as a thought he's never entertained before entered his mind.

"Wait, no but if we're checking for bites, how are we sure there's nothing in the drink?"

"I checked the water before I took it, it's clear."

"Yeah, but what if there's infected saliva mixed or something?"

Sapnap's attention snaps to them and he takes a second to take in what George is suggesting. Realizing what that could mean, he gags and shoves a finger to the back of his throat to try and make himself puke.

"Wha- Dumbass, you don't need to do that!" Dream yells after him. "How long have you guys been surviving through the virus without knowing the exact details of how it spreads?"

"What do you mean? Was there detailed information released about it?"

The man puts a hand on the nape of Sapnap's shirt to pull him up and physically stop him from trying to puke. 

"Damn it, George! The saliva comment's frickin' disgusting!"

"It's transmitted through blood coming in contact with blood only, you idiots don't have to worry. It's not just any body fluid," Dream begins to explain. "The only reason why bites and scratches are dangerous is because the infected usually vomit blood and their gums _bleed_ ; their fingernails also rot and burst, also _bleeds_. The blood from there gets transferred through deep bites and scratches. Not saliva or…" he awkwardly waves his hand around. "Any other body fluid."

They take a long minute to fully digest the new information presented to them. Sapnap, from beside George sags in relief.

"Hm, well, I do already have a gist of how the transmission works but I guess I didn't know it in detail like that," he looks up to Dream, curious. "Where did you learn that? Was that also from the radio?"

"No, the radio is only ever used for announcements regarding drops. I've never heard it broadcast anything else. I met a guy before who worked with the earlier established military force for the city as a part of the medical team. He said that's the current study on the virus transmission. Well, the 'current' then, when we last talked."

"What? There's something like that? What's his name?" George asks.

"Uh, hm, I forgot. Eh— yeah, no, I really forgot."

"Wow, you're kinda…"

"I'm not, I really just forgot because I have a lot of things to think about and with the situa—"

"Okay, okay! I get it, calm down-" there's a small grin on George's face as he was planning on teasing the man even more but out of nowhere, he feels a hand land on his shoulder and pushes him aside. 

"Dream-" Sapnap cuts in. "Did he mention anything about the vaccine? Cure? Anything?"

There's a pause in the flow of their conversation as Dream doesn't say anything. A moment later, he scoffs lightly.

"Do you believe that thing too? You sure believe a lot of things—"

"The movies and games about the zombie apocalypse always have a vaccine. Why would I not believe it? Plus, biology stuff right? We have antibodies and all the shit!"

Dream doesn't scoff a second time or make fun of him for how he said his point (George knows he will.), instead he sighs and answers him seriously.

"I'm pretty sure I asked something like that but got a negative answer so it felt like it didn't matter. I don't remember the exact explanation but it’s something like: the body's immune system isn't built to fight off the virus. The cure or something like that isn’t easy to come by. Sometimes, there will be one person who'll get infected but won't turn right away. That means the body is trying to fight the virus off but since the virus is stronger than the body’s immune system, all the body can do is keep the symptoms at bay while that person is alive. But the virus persists after death, so that person will still turn after dying naturally."

It's a different feeling, talking about all this information about the virus and being _enlightened_. Instead of feeling like they now know better and can better survive through this thing, it's more like being slapped hard across the face and spat at with a 'you can't do anything'.

Sapnap was quiet, stares off as he carefully thinks about what Dream told him. After a moment, he turns away from them with a troubled expression on his face, "You… that can't be it. Surely, there's more to it. There's gotta be," and walks a few meters away from them.

George can see the way Dream squints his eyes, following Sapnap's figure, suspicious. He clears his throat, loud on purpose to take Dream's attention away from the other man. 

"Don't mind him. He's, uh, he's just really passionate about finding the cure. It's sort of like a justice starved side, gets really sensitive about it," he tries, inwardly cursing at himself for stuttering.

Dream's face shows that he's calling it bullshit but he says nothing. It's a long day and George is tired, granted, so that much allowance is enough for him. 

He lets Sapnap be, he needs to think about things he wants to think about. Looking down at the neglected, opened bottle, George takes a deep breath and finally takes a sip.

The day for the drop finally arrives.

They reach the Hills and George, who’s never been here himself, disappointedly comments about how it’s more like a flat ground with a few elevated areas than a bunch of hills that he imagined it to be. 

Dream knows his way around. After a few minutes of walking, he brings them to a beaten down wooden shack. It’s enclosed enough to not be able to see much inside but a few loose and some missing planks makes it easy to snipe from the inside. George knows this is going to be his position.

“Always aim for the one wearing a boar head first. I don’t know exactly when he’ll come out but when he does, he should stand out enough that it’ll be easy to focus on him. You don’t have to but if it becomes necessary to, aim for his vital parts. If he’s nowhere in sight yet but you see me get surrounded, try to fend those people off. Again, don’t try to kill them, just immobilize.” Dream stands up, inspecting the space inside the shack. “I can’t tell exactly how hard it’ll be to shoot from here but if you need to, just go out of the shack and position yourself where you find best. Just try not to stand out or get seen at all.” 

“Okay, but does this boar guy have any long ranged weapon with him? He might aim back at me.” 

“I’m not sure. Knowing him he probably has.” Sapnap mutters an ‘oh god’ and George chooses to keep quiet, despite the way his heartbeat picks up pace. 

“Anyone with him?” he asks with way too much worry in his voice.

George can hear as Dream opens his mouth with a reply at the tip of his tongue, closes it as he thinks it through then slowly cringes. “Yes, I’m pretty sure he’s with someone who’s also good-”

“That’s it, we’re not making it out of here-”

“But sometimes he’s alone! And what the hell, don’t think like that, you’re going to jinx it, Sapnap.”

“Yes, jinx it, sure. Out of everything, _jinx_ it—”

“What will Sapnap do?” George cuts between them, keeping calm through the panic that’s wriggling in his stomach.

“Sapnap will be looking out for you,” Dream replies. “Look, okay. Some! Only _some_ people will be able to track down where George’s arrows are coming from and they _might_ hunt him down. Sapnap should guard the place, be on the lookout for anyone or _anything_ approaching. Also make sure that the emergency exit route is always safe to use in case you guys get cornered.”

The feeling of anxiousness swimming in his stomach disappears because now it feels like his stomach itself has fallen off. There’s only silence that trailed after Dream’s voice. Sapnap’s jaw is slack open while all and every hint of expression on George’s face has disappeared.

“Alright, Sapnap _is_ going to jinx it—”

“ _Me_?! Dream is the one assigning jobs here, he’s the—”

“It’ll be _fine_! Shut up, both of you!” And so they do but only because Dream’s yell was so loud that all three of them worried someone might have heard them. Dream sighs. “There’s no other choice, I’ll be going near the drop site myself. It’ll be more dangerous there.”

Both men recoil to themselves, knowing in their minds that they agree and understand but still being in a bit of denial. 

“Just… stay low, don’t engage in any fight unless you’re attacked first. I’m gonna go in a few minutes. Sapnap, be on the lookout right away after I leave. When I get there, I won’t engage right away, I’m going to wait until only a few people are left.”

“What if we get in trouble while you’re there?” Sapnap asks. 

Dream reaches inside his bag, pulling out a small, funny looking gun. 

“It’s a flare gun, I don’t have a lot of these so only use it at the most crucial time of emergency. And I mean when you’re almost _dead_ , like tiptoeing over death or something,” he says, hands it to Sapnap. “Almost. Not dying, okay? I’ll stop whatever I’m doing and go over here. Oh, and—”

He digs into the inside of his coat and pulls out an actual gun, a small revolver. Sapnap tries to but he can’t mask the sound of excitement at the sight of the object.

“Again, only use it when you really need to. The ammo is limited.”

“Will there be other people using guns?” Sapnap asks as he fiddles with the gun received. 

“There shouldn’t be, if there is, probably only one, maybe three at most. Even so, their ammo should be limited. Firearms are rarely given in the drops and when they do, I’m usually the one who gets them. And I usually just give them to Punz,” Dream lightly slaps his hand to make Sapnap stop. “I also don’t use it a lot because it’s loud and attracts the infected, so that's all I have on me right now. Don't lose it.”

When it’s time for Dream to leave the shack, he looks back to them a few times, glances filled with uneasiness even though George can’t even fully see it. Just as Dream left so did their chatter; Sapnap and George both let silence take over, heavy with anxiety and a little bit of fear. 

Without their voices to occupy the space between them, distant sounds of yells and fighting can be heard. Small monstrous sounds which can only come from the infected mingles along with the sound of chaos. 

George takes a peak outside, sees scattered infected here and there and a handful of people like Dream, _scavengers_ if that’s what they’re really called, fighting them off. As if to keep the ground clean for the fight that’s going to happen.

It’s like a ritual, he thinks.

A few minutes pass by, slow and a bit irritating. He regrets not bombarding Dream with questions about when they’ll know the drop is near or how to spot the drop and Dream himself among the crowd. 

Sapnap is already positioned by the door and George feels awkward almost laying down and unprepared so he sits up and positions himself with his crossbow.

He expected the whole time they're waiting for something to happen to be just them waiting on time to pass by but it seems like Sapnap has questions he finds important enough to squeeze in.

"What'll we do after we get the resources?" he asks, moving away from his post to get near George. "If, of course, he's going to give us some."

"He should be, we're helping him."

"Yeah. Yeah, we are," he mutters, head tilted down in thought.

"Well, we should be on our way, naturally," George adds, voice tentative and unsure.

"Naturally."

Silence, thoughts and sounds. That's all they have.

"Why? Are you saying we do something else?" George knows this is a talk where he needs to keep poking into to get where they really need to be.

"I don't know," Sapnap answers, trying to wave it off.

"But you do know. It sounds like you do."

"Well, to me it sounds like you do as well, George." What a Sapnap way to react, George thinks. "It's just that, the guy doesn't seem that bad. And I have a feeling we'll be safer if we stick with him. And fed and protected. And updated. You know?"

This. This is the conversation they needed to go to.

"Yeah, but it's not like we can just keep sticking to him. He probably doesn't want us to."

The other man groans, rubs his face a tad bit aggressively.

"Probably, but!" he draws out the 'but', whining. "If we can show just how powerful our triple combo is then, I don't know, _maybe!_?"

A smile forms on George's face as he tries not to laugh; but it's not out of joy or giddiness. Sapnap is funny. He just is.

"Maybe."

* * *

[ _Dream_ ]

From where Dream is, he can see the shack in the distance but it's not eye-catching enough to take anyone's interest. The whole field is already slowly filling up with people, not a lot, but this amount is still not usual to see nowadays. It's like a gathering, a small, distant party. 

A lot of faces he recognizes, and he's sure a lot of people will also recognize him. That isn't in any way a good thing. Most of these people will most likely team up just to go after him. Which is why he needs to slim down the number of energetic people first before going in himself.

It's almost half an hour after he left the other two when the distant sound of helicopter blades reached him. It doesn't seem like he's the only one, with the way everyone is turning their head up and around to try and find the source of the sound.

The waiting time leading up to this moment feels so slow but once the helicopter comes into view, everything goes so fast, it always feels like he's getting whiplashed. Hanging from the vehicle is the five feet tall and wide wooden box, very slowly swaying in the air.

One look down and there are a lot of people already running towards where it's supposed to drop. With the noise the vehicle created, stray infected can be seen running along the wave.

Dream stays in place, doesn't want to get involved yet, not while the center of the field is already crammed with bodies of people, alive and dead all the same, weapons and bloody arms swinging left and right.

Dream is strong, he knows he is. But he's also smart enough to know he's not _that_ strong to just charge forward, take on multiple people at once and get out of it alive.

Stepping back, his attention was snatched by the sound of shuffling and he turned around in time to evade the metal bat going for his face. The sudden change of orientation made him stumble to a half seated position.

A man he doesn't recognize charges towards him in an attempt to tackle him but Dream moves faster, rolling to his side and kicking the man away from where he is on the ground.

A second of disorientation is all his kick bought him but it was enough to proper his weapon and strike a blow to his stomach.

He didn't hold back his strength, never not a good idea, and the man fell on his back, recoiling on himself.

It's not unusual to encounter other survivors while trying to stay low during the beginning of the drop, mostly because Dream's tactic to 'wait until only a few opponents are left' isn't the most original and unique way to approach the situation. Thing is, that man should've just walked away instead of trying to go for him.

He looks over to the field and just in time, an arrow whizzes across the field from where he remembers George and Sapnap's general direction is. It's going good so far, but—

"Hey, green man,"

—Not even a minute after he stood up, he hears a familiar voice and following it, the whisper of another arrow. When he crouched down to dodge from wherever it's coming from, he sees at the corner of his eye, in a flash, the shine of metal, quick and dangerously near.

His reflexes save him by pulling his arm up and blocking the machete angled towards him using the handle of his axe. Even though the sharp blade dug into the wood instead of his face, it remained there, being pushed down to weigh over Dream with insane strength.

With all his muscle strength being focused on his arms to not get sliced clean, he looks up to see brown fur and sharp tusks, decorated with clotting splatters of red and black.

The man—the Boar, gives a low laugh, almost sarcastic, very much hostile.

"Hello, Techno." Dream sneers, tries to sound just as intimidating but it comes off shaky as the fight of strength is making his arms and body tremble under the pressure.

A painful blow to the stomach by the Boar's fricking heavy-ass boots sends Dream a few steps back. He recovered fast enough to shield another swift swing of the machete towards his face. The Boar tried to kick him again but as soon as Dream realizes this, he ducks down and tackles him to the ground. 

He gets thrown off right away but he takes the chance of being on his feet to strike with his axe this time. 

They fight, the Boar swinging his machete with every intention to chop off a limb, then dodging when not. It's almost too fast but every time, Dream blocks the strikes with his axe just in time. They exchange a few blows, strong punches but equally resistant bodies.

He kicks the Boar in the stomach, pushing him back a small distance but it's not enough to immobilize him. The crossbow Dream forgot the Boar has, meets him in the face and all his senses screamed ' _fight or you're dead'_. 

Dream grips his axe tight, about to swing the thing across his legs but an arrow passes by from behind him and digs into the Boar's shoulder. 

This made him flinch back and pause his attacks. He moves back, hand gripping the thing and with a click of his tongue, snaps it off, completely unfazed. 

He suddenly whips his head away and looks on accurately to where the arrow came from.

Another one almost hits his mask and he retreats one more time, attention more focused on whoever is shooting him than Dream who's already stood up and made a run for it.

' _Making George focus on Techno is the best fucking idea ever_.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao imagine forgetting you have a fanfic to update bc current lore in the dsmp is so intense O~o
> 
> ...yes, thats me.
> 
> also i hope this chapter doesnt seem too off or different, i literally had to research how to write fight scenes bc its my first time hehe
> 
> hope you enjoyed reading! comments and kudos are appreciated :D


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